


Not Everyone's Free

by Preciousfairyvagina



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Dirty Thoughts, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fade Sex, Feels, Fluff, Jealous Solas, Lust, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Sex Talk, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-22 02:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3711853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preciousfairyvagina/pseuds/Preciousfairyvagina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowen Lavellan is haunted by the tragedy at Haven and unwelcome memories from the past. During their first expedition back to the Hinterlands after Haven's destruction, Rowan takes her group on a simple mission. Her mind however is lingering on thoughts of her kiss with Solas, his refusal of her affections and her childhood in clan Lavellan. Things spiral for her when the group is mysteriously confronted by an old clansman of Lavellan's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only In Dreams

 

Rowan had insisted they stop at the Gull and Lantern before they began their day. She normally didn't drink in the morning but she was tense, her nerves frayed. It had been a fortnight since the Inquisition had moved to Skyhold and the destruction of Haven weighed on her spirit heavily. She didn't receive much of an argument from her party either, save Solas. It was their first trip back to the Hinterlands since Corypheus' attack and they all understood the need for quiet reflection before journeying south to Hafter's Woods.

 She sat alone at the bar hunched over her pint of warm ale, and thought about their relativity simple tasks for the day. “ _Bear pelts, shards, astrariums”,_ she thought, pinching the bridge of her nose. “ _Tie up lose ends, help the Dali...”_ her thoughts were interrupted by a rough and heavy hand slamming a mug down. Varric took his gloves off, carefully pulling at one leathered finger at a time before the material broke free. He placed them on the bar top and turned to her.

 “Going to be one of those days, huh Tack?” Rowan did her best to pull her face into an awkward half smile in acknowledgment of the shitty situation they found themselves in.

 “Can't say I've ever been in a tavern at 9 o'clock in the morning before. That's a first for me.” He then took a large drink of his own ale.

 At this, she scoffed. “Varric, I find it difficult to imagine you out of place in any situation. Especially when a tavern is involved.” She looked at him sideways through deep green eyes and smiled playfully.

 He let out a low short laugh and replied, “Tack, your faith in my talent is humbling. I wont disappoint.”

 “I've never doubted your commitment to the Inquisition for a moment.” She smiled again and jabbed his ribs with her elbow. He laughed and took another drink. They fell into comfortable silence and Rowan began to listen to the conversation coming from the table directly behind her.

 She didn't have to look to know who was involved. Although Solas had spurned her advances two weeks prior after their kiss in the fade, she still endeavored to take him with her almost everywhere she went. He had gone with her everywhere before and she didn't want anything to be changed between them. Of course it already had been, he even told her as much. Her mind flashed back to the memory. _You change...everything._ Her face flushed as flashes of his hands grabbing her into an embrace and tongue desperately parting her lips raced across her mind. She didn't want him to know that his refusal had wounded her so deeply. She didn't want him to know that the memory of the kiss had seared itself into her mind and now sometimes she found it physically uncomfortable to be too close to him. So here he sat facing Dorian, who was happily drinking a brown liquid from a short fat glass and discussing the arcane and manipulation of the veil.

  _Fenedhis,_ she thought bitterly to herself. _I'm an idiot._

 Of course Solas wasn't drinking. He disapproved of Rowen's notion to go to the Gull and Lantern to begin with _._ _Fool girl is going to get herself killed with this reckless behavior,_ he thought to himself. He leaned back lazily in his chair and fixed his gaze on Dorian who was finishing up a musing on the various uses of veilfire. He had to make a concentrated effort to listen to him. She didn't make it easy on him. He felt her energy pressing on him. If only she knew how intense her spirit was.

 Every night for the past two weeks, his dreams were filled with her. He couldn't resist her. She was in his bones and marrow. She had sought him out the first night at Skyhold in the fade. _Always so damned curious._ It had taken all his willpower not to break down and confess to her right then and there. She had changed everything for him. Her kiss was fire. It burned and branded him. Something even he couldn't name ripped apart deep inside him in that moment and he felt the whole world change. He felt himself change. his heart and body won out for the first time in a long time against his mind.

  _Lips chapped from the wind and cold. She tastes like ice and sulfur. So warm._

  _Fenedhis,_ he thought bitterly to himself. _I'm an idiot._

 “...Solas? If you mean to tell me that you find my conversation to be lacking, I will be a very grumpy man. You know that doesn't do well for my ego.”

 Solas looked up from his bowl of stew and smirked in spite of himself. “Not at all. Just thinking on the tasks for today.”

 “Yes, hunting bears in Hafter's Woods. Surely the Inquisition could be put to _better use,_ yes?” He raised his voice and looked toward Rowan. Even if it were in jest, he wasn't entirely wrong.

 She spun around on her stool. “Yes, Dorian. But Cullen, Josephine and Leliana are all working towards the ball at Halamshiral. We have some time to kill and I'd prefer to not sit idle.”

 With that, she hopped up, grabbed her staff and asked if everyone was ready to head south.

 “Bianca and I are always ready, Tack.”

“I, my dear, am at your disposal.”

 She looked to Solas who regarded her with a slight nod. They all stood up, gathered their things and headed out South from the Gull and Lantern.

 The group rode along the path on their various mounts. Dorian and Varric on Orlesian Coursers and Solas on a Hart. Rowan always took her Blue River Bane Dracolisk, Penny with her wherever she went. She loved the old girl dearly, and it would be dishonest to say that she didn't enjoy the look of shock from the villagers when they saw her on it. She leaned forward and stroked Penny's hide, giving her a gentle pat of encouragement. Penny huffed in appreciation. On their mounts, the journey wasn't a long one. They had a few encounters with corrupted Templars along the way, as well as some wild beats. They still made good time, reaching Hafter's Woods half past one.

 They made quick work of the bears. Their months in the field and on the roads had honed their skills, made them lethal and efficient. A few bears were indeed a simple task, probably better left to the Inquisition's scouts.

 Rowan liked being outdoors, however. Even with the comfort and safety of Skyhold's tall stone walls, she often felt pressured by them. The weight of her obligation and responsibility squeezing her and making it difficult to breathe. No, this is where she belonged. She was Dalish, after all. Even though she always dreamed of the adventure and freedom that her clan couldn't offer her, she still spent her whole life in nature, sleeping under the stars and roaming the woods.

 Rowen sat on a nearby stump and watched Varric remove the last bear's fur. His hands, steady and delicate despite their rough and calloused exterior. _Probably from years of lock picking,_ she thought. _He would have to have a subtle grace to him._

 She let her mind wander for a moment. Back to clan Lavellan. Her childhood and the aravels. The sound of their sails flapping like a ship at sea as the clan traveled. Her, running along next to them.She thought of some of the more mean-spirited kids making fun of her accursed birthmark. She remembered running with Laurell though the woods, hunting for the clan... _Huh...Laurell._ A name she hadn't thought of in some time. She wondered what he had done with himself, these past ten years. Before he decided to leave the clan. Her mind darkened and a bitterness blossomed in her mouth. _Dread Wolf take him._ He had been her dearest friend. Her _Hahren._ She had respected his opinion above all others, and he abandoned the clan. And her.

 She looked up and saw that stupid jawbone amulet. _Creators, not now._ She raised her gaze to find him looking at her somewhat curious and concerned.

 “ _Lethallan,_ you seem distracted today. Are you alright?”

“I suppose I'm distracted. Thoughts of Haven and the Hinterlands have brought back old memories. Once I let my mind go, it's hard to reel it in sometimes until I have found everything sad it has to offer.”

He was surprised for a brief moment at her candor. She always managed to do that.

 “Be cautious” He squatted down in front of her so their eyes were on the same level “that these dark thoughts don't consume you. You have trained your will to withstand possession. You can train it in this regard too.”

 She huffed, but after a moment of reflection gave him a resigned nod.

 She looked down and noticed that his hands were clenched into tight fists, sitting atop his thighs. Did he really dislike being around her so much?

 “...Solas?”

 He answered with a gentle “Hmm?”

 “I'm glad that you are here. I value your council...and your friendship.” She tentatively placed her hand on one of the clenched fists resting on his lap. Maybe this gesture would soften him to her. Then he could see that she wanted a friendship with him. It did not escape her when his whole body stiffened at her small gesture. She sighed and pulled her hand away.

 He opened his mouth to say something but caught sight of her lips. He wanted to reach out and rub his thumb along the flesh of the bottom one. Wanted to pull that lip towards him and take it between his teeth. The polite words of thanks got caught in his throat. The most he could muster was a tight nod before he unclenched his fists, put them flush against his thighs and used them to hoist himself back up and walk away.

  _You change...everything._ She scoffed loudly at the memory. She was sure he was in ear shot because for just a fleeting moment he paused before continuing to walk away.

  _I should throw his stupid knapsack in the river,_ she thought as she got to her feet.

 “We should continue West. There's a camp close by.” She didn't wait for a response before quickly mounting Penny and taking off.

 “Thank the Maker.” Dorian sighed. “It is far too rustic out here for my tastes. I honestly don't know how you Dalish stand it!” He looked over to Solas with a smile and giggled when the elf raised an eyebrow at him in response.

 “Oh, not you darling. Never you. Although, now that I've come to know you the idea of you playing hunter with the Dalish is terribly delightful.”

 “I'm sorry. You'll have to speak up. I cannot hear you over your outfit.”

 Dorian threw his head back in honest laughter and put his hand on Solas' shoulder to steady himself.

 “If you two hens are done clucking, I think our Inquisitor has taken off on us” Varric said as he mounted his horse and trotted off in the direction Rowan went.

 Solas jerked his head up and realized that Rowan was indeed out of eyesight. Despite himself, he felt a unwelcome sense of panic. He didn't like not knowing where she was. It was one of the reasons he assured her that he would be most obliged to go on any and all outings with her. If he knew where she was, he could protect her. He gracefully mounted his hart and galloped ahead of the other two men, who were confusedly calling after him.

  _This girl is going to be the death of me._

 “Those two” Dorian said. “Maker's breath, they need to just get on with it.”

 “You aren't wrong” Varric replied.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listened to this song on repeat while writing this chapter. I totally added song lyrics to the chapter because I'm like 9 and that's what I do:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4spkVX8z-vs


	2. Different Pulses

She was easy to track. While she was a skilled rider, he was by far a more skilled tracker. He caught sight of her after a few miles. When he saw her, he stood in the stirrups, bent forward and surfed the motion of his hart as she galloped. She increased her speed and caught up to Rowan and Penny in under a minute. Rowan had heard him coming but wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing her annoyance. She was not interested in a chase either, so she slowed her pace to a gentle gallop to allow him to meet her.

She looked over to Solas who had a sickeningly smug grin plastered across his face.

_Ah, I should have known his his satisfaction wouldn't be taken from him._

“I've caught you.” While his smile was mischievous, his brows were knitted together, eyes dark and boring into her.

 _Damn him._ She was too proud to let him know his gaze had an effect on her. “That couldn't have been difficult considering I wasn't running.”

He didn't miss a beat. “No, you were riding.” His smile widened

 _Creators, what a smug ass._ She rolled her eyes at him and pulled ahead slightly. They rode silently for a few moments. It was warm and quiet. She could smell the faint aroma of honeysuckle. She closed her eyes and took a long breath of the scent as the breeze rustled the sun kissed leaves of the trees. Her moment of peace was interrupted by the bald elf to her right.

“Do you mean to be intentionally childish by running off on your own like that?” His smile was gone, but the intensity in which he regarded her remained.

He was intentionally goading her. He knew that luring her into an argument would keep her there, talking to him instead of running off again. His plan had the intended effect because she stopped Penny to almost a halt. He could see the ruddy charge of anger blossom over her cheeks. She tightened her grip on her reigns and clenched her jaw slightly. He would be lying if he said he didn't slightly enjoy seeing her this way. He liked seeing her impassioned, whether that came from his chiding or helping the people of Thedas. She was a spectrum of color and he found her fascinating.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “If the desire for solitude makes one childish then you must be positively infantile.” _Ha, the smug shit._

His mouth quirked up and the humor of her statement reached his eyes. He did not labor to contain his amusement and let out a hearty laugh. She stared at him fiercely for a moment before feeling the faint tugging of her own smile threatening to give her away. She tried to maintain but lost to the ridiculousness of the situation and began to giggle. His eyes, usually guarded, were unburdened and free as his deep laugh rang out. She enjoyed the warmth and happiness those eyes held.

As their laughter died down she glanced behind her and saw Varric and Dorian coming upon them in the distance. Varric saw her and threw one of his hands up in exasperation. She looked at Solas and gestured over he shoulder at the two men. She had half turned Penny in their direction, when Solas stopped her.

“ _Lethallan”_ he said quietly.

“Yes Solas?”

“I value your...friendship, as well.”

She felt her heart wrench at the sight of his face. Serious and sincere. _What are you doing to me Solas?_ She smiled sadly at him for a moment then turned to trot away to the rest of the party. In her heart was the answer to a question that she was not as yet aware that he had asked.

He watched her go for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh and following.

The rest of the day was strictly business. The collection of the shards were a personal curiosity of Rowan's and she had an earnest and industrious effort in their recovery. Solas watched as she found each one, bending down to retrieve it, studying it curiously before stacking it in Penny's side saddle. This is how he saw her. Vibrant, curious and respectful of the world she found herself in. He saw himself in her.

By dusk, every muscle in her body was aching for rest. She had pushed herself hard despite the simplicity of their task. She didn't know how to exactly put Solas' earlier advice to work, so she exhausted herself. She didn't want to think about Haven. She didn't want to think about her clan. She didn't want to think about his....anything.

When they reached the forest camp, she realized she hadn't eaten since the tavern and felt that familiar hollow feeling at her core. After posting Penny she took off her outer coat and folded it in her arms, turning to Dorian.

“Dorian. Do you still have that cured ram meat?”

“Yes. I also managed to swindle the handsome bar keep at the Gull and Lantern out of...”he rummaged excitedly around in his pack and pulled out a tall bottle with brown liquid “...this!”

Rowan scrunched her face and took the bottle, examining the label. “Dra...Dragon Piss. You got a bottle of Dragon Piss from the barkeep. Was he mad at you?” She bit her lip and tried to hold back a chuckle.

“Perish the thought.”

“Knowing your charms, he probably poisoned it”  
  
“You wound me, Inquisitor. But if you are too important for a game of Wicked Grace...”  
  
“Important? Yes, far too important. But too proud? Never!” with that, she popped the cork and lifted the bottle to her nose.

“Best not to smell it first, love.” He said as he squatted next to the fire to cook the meat

She shrugged, took a drink and shook her head in disgust. By this point, Solas and Varric had finished unpacking for the night and joined them standing by the fire. She handed the bottle to Solas, who raised an eyebrow at her but took it all the same. He took a drink with no apparent reaction to it's acidic bite and passed it to Varric who followed suit.

The night seemed short but relaxed. They played two rounds of Wicked Grace and ate their meals. Laughter and conversation flowed freely. It was moments like these that Rowan cherished. They were a family, the Inquisition. After three short hours had passed at the fireside, Rowan felt her eyes beginning to get heavy. She bid her companions good night and went to her tent. Varric and Dorian were swapping stories and she knew they'd be content to be at it into the early morning hours. Solas had taken himself to the nearby stream some time back to bathe before sleeping. She opened the flap to her canvas tent and sprawled out on the fur pelts within. She tipsily shrugged her breeches off and cast them aside. It wasn't long until she fell into a deep sleep.

As her eyes closed to the world, Solas was opening his to the Fade. It took him a moment to realize that he was not in laying next to the stream. He was in a dream...He's was in her dream.

 

  _Little feet running bare through woods. Dirt clings to them. She jumps playfully. A wide smile on her face. Knobby knees wobble and steady themselves on a rocky ledge. She crouches low behind the foliage, a young man with bronze skin and brown hair crouches next to her. She lays on her belly and pulls herself to the edge overlooking a stream. A small ram is quietly drinking from the bubbling water._

“ _Pull your bow out, Da'len...quietly now.”_

_She does as instructed. She needs to re-position herself to hold the too big bow in her small arms. She pulls an arrow from her quiver and prepares it. “Your magic can be used in more than casting spells. You can focus your will for the hunt.”_

_She furrows her brows at him, considering his meaning._

“ _Hold your breath and exhale when you release” he whispers._

“ _But Hahren, my arms are burning. I can't hold it that long.” She whispers back._

“ _That's why you hold your breath. Focus your will. Use your mana to strengthen your limbs. Feel it extend to your physical weapon. Focus on the kill....aim”._

_She feels the tears begin to well in her big green eyes as she pulls her shoulder back behind her. She begins to tremble._

“ _Focus” His eyes-brown, encouraging._

_She extends her mana to her arms and torso, feeling the weight of it fill her burning muscles. As it spreads further to her finger tips, she realizes that she isn't hurting as much as she was. Her mana is an extension of her, just as the bow is. They move as one. They are her tools._

_A determined smile shows through the drying tears on a dirt streaked face._

“ _Good....now exhale and release”. He's gesturing to her, but his eyes are on the ram._

_She exhales. It silently releases. The arrow is true. The ram doesn't even know it's been hit before it dies. Merciful. A good clean kill. Her eyes widen with proud surprise._

“ _Laurell! I did it! I did it! Did you see!? Andruil was on our side today, was she not!?”._

“ _A good kill to be sure. You should be proud. But your target was not moving. Next time might not be so easy.”_

_She crosses her arms as he hoists himself down from the ledge and pulls the arrow from behind its left shoulder. She listened well. Right in the heart. He looked up at her with pride._

“ _Laurell, can't you just be happy for me!” She sticks out her tongue and he laughs a loud and earnest laugh._

“ _I'll be happy when you're big enough to carry the kill back with me, Pad Foot. Now come on down and lets head to camp. This will make Keeper Deshanna very pleased.”_

_She smiles down at him and raises to her feet, all green eyes and black dreadlocks that flop over her face._

_Laurell places the ram over his shoulders and begins to walk away. She goes to follow him, then looks up. She sees him across the clearing. Only she's not seeing him. She sees a wolf. A great white wolf with six blue eyes. They study each other for a moment._

  _A determined smile spreads over her face and she readies her bow. He doesn't move. “So determined, even as a child” He thinks to himself, amused with the little Dalish girl._

_She uses her mana the way Laurell had taught her. She pulls it down to her fingers and into her bow until she is enveloped in a faint blue light. As she pulls back she sees the green mist coming from the wolf. Pushing in her direction and pulling her mana towards him. Their colors reaching each other slowly, like a dance. Swirling around as both a test and an invitation. Startled, she releases the arrow._

_As the arrow reaches the center of their magic, it becomes a prism and the different pulses are synced into a blinding white light, ending the dream._

She shot up in her tent, head throbbing and covered in sweat. She put her head to her knees to quell the nausea that accompanied her start.  
  
_What was that ?_  
  
 She began to quietly weep as she remembered the wolf's green light and the intensity in which she felt the white explosion. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue with music inspired chapters! I listened to this song while writing and added some lyrics throughout that fit the story. This song is absolutely beautiful and I think it perfectly fits how I imagine Solas feels about Lavellan.
> 
> Asaf Avidan-Different Pulses:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=osXM1S-sGks
> 
> Also take a sexy staring Solas to know what Rowan was dealing with in the beginning of the chapter:  
> http://41.media.tumblr.com/5ce13f0fbc600256906d70c4b197c609/tumblr_nm8wjdSRXG1uri4f3o4_1280.png
> 
> (Source)  
> http://hobaglavellan.tumblr.com/post/115655761804/captaincaranis-just-solas-face-what-i-love


	3. I Will Possess Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter is for Matt. <3 He wanted to hear some of the stories that Dorian and Varric might have been telling each other.
> 
> After the break it devolves into dirty, dirty garbage people smut. If you don't want to read that kind of tomfoolery, just stop at the break and consider this a short chapter of Varric and Dorian shooting the shit and being cute. If you do want to read it, then enjoy. I have never written smut before and I am kind of nervous about it. 
> 
> I haven't been able to post because my computer is being repaired right now, but hopefully that resolves itself and I can get back to posting easily soon. And I am going out of town for the weekend. I thought I would leave a saucy chapter before I left. ENJOY!
> 
> BTW. I've been featuring a fair amount of Varric's hands. I think I have a Varric hand fetish. Who knew?

The fire crackled low and steady as Varric and Dorian passed the large green bottle of Dragon Piss back and forth over a short wooden card table-their game of Wicked Grace all but forgotten. It was a cool spring night, but the tickling heat of the fire combined with the spirits warmed them into relaxed conversation.

 “So I'm 16, studying at the circle in Vyrantium when I meet a handsome young man by the name of Rilienus. Charming boy, really...always up to no good. After a long and incredibly trying day of practicing Simulacrum, we went to the Falgard Dracona...”

 Varric raised his eyebrows in question.

 “It was a tavern. It means the Dwarf Dragon. There was a charming little wooden sign out front with a fat purple dragon drinking some of the house ale and expelling fire.”

 “You, in a tavern? Was it dirty? Did you lay an embroidered handkerchief down before you sat?” Varric took a long drink and chuckled at the bronzed man across from him.  
  
Dorian put his hand over his chest in mock offense. “I was in a _tavern_ just this morning, I'll have you know.”

“Yes. But in _Fereldan_. Not in Tevinter.”

 “Good point. Let's just say that my affections for Rilienus made me...impulsive.

 Anyway. After three or four Brandywine's and a series of escalating dares, he got the riotous notion into his head that it would be funny to see me run through the circle's courtyards in nothing but the the Maker's divine glory.”

 Varric passed the bottle to Dorain. “No shit. Did you do it?”

 “Did I do it? Such questions you ask me. I am a member of house Parvus. One of the most respected in the Imperium! It was my duty and honor to do it!”

 Varric threw his head back and erupted in a cacophony of drunken delight which lasted several seconds.

“You should have heard the old crones in the yard. Shocked! Appalled! Their delicate natures affronted!”

 “How did you manage to get out of that one, Sparkler?”

 “My mother pulled many strings, but I guarantee you that those clucking old hens got a memory that would last their withered hearts a lifetime...two in fact.”

 This time it was Dorian who laughed while Varric sat bemused, considering the scene set before him.

 “So Varric, did I hear this correctly? You met Corypheus before?” Dorian passed the last of the meat to Varric and collected the cards.

 “We didn't have tea and crumpets, Sparkler. I happened to be there when he woke up.” Varric took a large bite and sucked the juice from his thumb.

 “And what did he say, hmm? ' _Hello, I'm one of the Magisters who broke into the Black City. Pleased to meet you_ '!”

 “Ha! It more more like...ahem...' _Argh, I'm a darkspawn! Dumat! Dumat_!' Then Hawke killed him.”

 “Not very well, it appears”

“Tell me about it.”

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He shot to his feet in an instant. He was back by the stream. Firebugs circled each other lazily and the water let off a gentle steam. His naked body covered in sweat, cast a hue of blue in the moonlight. The wards were beginning to fade. He hadn't meant to sleep so long. He had just meant to meet with a spirit of wisdom for council. His journey into her dream had been purely accidental.

  _She couldn't have been aware that Fen'Harel was the wolf she hunted. Her Dalish superstition would have her unable to move._

He reached down and opened his pack, looking for a book. It was a treatise on Dalish culture. He had carried it around with him from their first meeting. A once fresh print, its leather now faded with months of travel and almost every page was marked and eared. He flipped through the pages not knowing what he was looking for, before shutting it again and tapping it against his forehead.

  _An arrow. A prism. The anchor. Her mana. An explosion of white, blinding light._

He hadn't willed what had happened in the dream. He suspected neither did she. She looked startled in the moments before she was ripped from him. He saw her little face, twisted in confusion across the clearing. Her green eyes illuminated with bright color.

 She had been just a girl in her dream. The hunter was much older, the beginings of a man. She called him _Hahren_. Maybe he was the clan's first at the time, for he knew she didn't have siblings.

 He shoved the book back in his bag and dressed in his deep blue tunic and ram skin breeches, that he laced up hastily. He did not wear smallclothes. He preferred being able to move unrestricted, feeling the earth under his toes and cool air between his thighs. He fastened the Keeper's staff she had made for him to his back before shrugging on his pack and making the half an hour hike back to camp.

 He came upon Dorian who was hunched down with a bag of sand, snuffing out the waning fire.

 “Good evening Solas. That was quite a long bath you took. Tell me, were you spending time alone with yourself indulging in _salacious_ thoughts of a certain raven-haired Dalish Inquisitor?”

 Solas did his best to sound unaffected and non-nonchalant. The man's back was to him, or he would have seen that his tense body language betrayed the coolness in which he spoke.

“Steel yourself, Dorian. Your time with Varric has begun to turn the mundane into a passage from _Swords and Shields_.”

 “Isn't it, though?”

 Dorian stood to turn to Solas and smirked, unconvinced.

 “With that thought, I bid you goodnight”  
  
Dorian strode over to the tent that Solas, Varric and he shared and drunkenly tumbled inside. He heard a muffled scuffle and Varric sleepily yelp “Dammit, Sparkler! I'm not looking to cuddle!”, then an oomph and Dorian replying with a slur, “Keep telling yourself that. I'm irresistible.”

 He watched the smoke from the fire for a moment before catching sight of a faint green glow from the corner of his eye. He looked up to see it was coming from Rowan's tent.

  _She's awake. Casting the anchor. But why?_

He stood there a moment longer, watching the light grow bright and then softer again until it finally faded to darkness, then repeating the process over again.

 He unraveled his bedroll, laying it on the far side of the fire pit and pulled himself inside. With one arm behind his head, he looked to the right and watched the light coming from her tent. Billowing smoke from the snuffed fire and the canvas of her tent obstructing his view of her. He could see the outline of her body, a shadow set against the glow from her hand. He could see her hunched over, looking at the light. He could see the curve of her back, the hair falling in her face...and he could see the peaks of her breasts, the stiffened pinpoints at their center. She was nude. This private moment got on top of him in an instant.

 He quietly reached his hand down into the blanket that covered him. He felt that familiar ache begin to swell between his thighs. He had come to know unfulfilled desire well these past months. Every time he looked at her he felt violent and inescapable frustration. He pressed his palm hard on his growing erection willing it to subside, but the feel of his hand coupled with the sight of her only increased his arousal. He kept his palm in place, not ready to give up control yet. But it only served to remind him of his lust with every growing throb.

 He looked up at Varric and Dorian's tent for a sign of movement. Only slight snoring. They had drunk themselves into a stupor. A part of him was disappointed. He wished for a distraction from his desire. Alas, he was his own company. Just him and the sight of her.

 Looking back over at her tent, he unlaced his breeches with one finger and released his aching cock. It sprung out, desperate to be free. He wrapped his long slender fingers around it's thick base and began to slowly stroke himself. He felt every tired, old muscle in his body relax at the sight of her. He felt no guilt in viewing her this way, though he knew he should. Just blinding arousal. Greedy, desperate, selfish. Painful lust.

 She leaned back with one arm on the ground now, the anchor reached up in front of her face. He could see the shadow of her profile, the curve and upward point of her nose, the points of her delicate ears, her luscious lips. His breathing was beginning to become labored as he imagined her naked body illuminated by the anchor. His magic covering her soft, supple skin. He pictured her beautiful mouth opening for him.

He bit his bottom lip and squeezed his shaft harder, pumping himself with a bit more urgency. A pool of moisture produced from his tip and he used his thumb to massage it into his head with a sharp hissing sound. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and allowed the fantasy he had built for himself these past two weeks to overcome him.

  _Her straddling him on his chair in the rotunda, head thrown back, eyes glazed over and mouth pulled into a lazy smile, him looking up at her. Thrusting into her from below, watching her breasts bounce in a beautifully vulgar manner._

  _“We m...must be quiet, Hahren. There are surely still s...cribes at work in the library.” whispered to him. Breath hot against his face._

  _“Then be silent, Inquisitor. If you believe you can be.” through gritted teeth. Him grabbing her ass, licking her nipples, biting the swell of her tattooed breasts. “I will not endeavor to make the task a simple one. I'd have all of Skyhold hear you scream for me as I come.”_

He pulled his free arm from behind his head and reached town to meet the other. He pulled and massaged his swollen balls while his hips began to thrust up into his firm grip. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but he was losing himself to her. When he opened his eyes to look, she had shifted once again. The glow was muted, between her thighs. She was touching herself, back arched into her hand and the other brought to her mouth. He could hardly contain himself at the sight. What was she doing with that hand? Was she was sucking on her fingers? Maybe her hand was clasped over her mouth to keep quiet, lest she wake the camp with lustful moans. He believed it was the former, because in that moment he thought he heard a soft wet sucking noise and a quiet sigh come from within.

He moaned quietly and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the deliciousness of the sound. He fantasized he was in her mouth, tongue licking slowly, tasting. Savoring every pulsating inch of his thick cock. He wanted to be the reason for the sounds coming from that tent. He wanted to jump up and barge in. He wanted to take in the sight of her fully. He wanted to bend her over with elbows pinned behind her back and take her like a screaming savage.

Another quiet sigh.

_Fuck. She's going to end me._

The muscles in his forearm burned as he jerked furiously. Hips bucking and rolling into every thrust. He threw the top blanket off to expose his manhood to the night. Precum had almost entirely drenched his hard on now. He thought about how easily he would slide into her wetness, both of them slick with arousal. He felt himself getting close to his end and let his mind wander back to the fantasy, never looking away. Her hand was in her hair, pulling her head back. She was slowly moving her body up and down against the anchor. The glow illuminating the lips between her thighs. His magic there too.

  _“Q...uiet, Hahren. Someone will hear us.”_

His breathing ragged and shallow. He could not keep quiet.

 “ _Harder, please. I cannot bare it.”_

 He pumped himself with all the passion of a God. Toes curling, jaw tight. Tears forming in the corner of his eyes at the pleasure of it all.

  _Looking down at him. Eyes desperate, whispering into his ear “Come undone for me, Fen'Harel.”_

 He heard it echoing in his head. Her sweet rich voice purring at him in need.

  _Come undone for me. Come for me. Fen'Harel. I need you. Come undone._

her body was shaking. She was close. He imagined her coming with him. Squeezing his cock with her well muscled body. Pulling every ounce of come from him.

_Fen'Harel, come undone for me._

 The thought of his name on her lips brought him over the edge. He let out a quiet growl and pumped rope after rope of thick seed over his hand. His taut stomach muscles contracting with each new spurt. His head fell back to his bedroll, hips hovering in the air. He pulled his orgasm out, savoring every last painfully exquisite second until his cock was spent. He lowered his hips and let his twitching member go. it fell to his thigh, satisfied, covered in semen. He pulled his hand up and rested it on his chest, letting his breathing return to normal. His eyes never left her.

  _I come undone for you every night, ma vhenan. If only you knew what you made of me. I fear I am yours entirely and it wont be long until I can no longer contain it to fantasy. I will possess your heart. Then we will both come undone. Our blinding light will consume us._

 Her shuddering had subsided and she was leaning back again, chest rising and falling quietly. He knew she had reached her end as well. He wondered what fantasy she might have been lost in. A member of her clan? Perhaps the Commander. He saw how he looked at her. An exotic Dalish beauty, with a fierce and undeniable power. Perhaps it was the man from the dream. Surely not. He was much older than her.

  _And you are not, old man?_

 His mind darkened at the thought. Perhaps she was fantasizing about him. He barely let himself entertain that notion before he wiped himself clean and laced his breeches back up. He closed his eyes and slipped back into the fade. He took care to avoid her dreams again. He knew that he needed wisdom now more than ever. For without wisdom, he surely _was_ lost to her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song this week. The beautiful sound of Solas' rapidly deteriorating self-control:
> 
> I Will Possess Your heart (DCFC):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVNAljC2kKM


	4. My Body is a Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the break is a portion of the dirty bits from Rowan's perspective.
> 
> After the break, we begin our journey back to Skyhold and meet someone along the way. Plus Solas gets super shitty. 
> 
> I would like to work on this chapter a bit more, not quite satisfied with it.

Rowan hugged her knees to her chest and let herself cry for some time. They were not tears of sadness or fear, nor where they tears of joy. An orchestra of feeling rang from her spirit. The music swelled inside her like a hollow and desperate organ. A painful song, feeling blindly for anything to grab back.  The explosion didn't burn her, it set her soul alight; shining and shaking. She had no language for it.

 She was snapped back to the present when she heard the muffled voice of Dorian outside the tent.

_The wolf. I do not remember him being there that day in the woods. Of course he wasn't there, you idiot. Six eyes. It had to have been a demon. Feeding on your emotions and memories. Or maybe it was a construct of your own mind? The magic he produced felt so real. So...familiar. That green light...  
_

She froze and thought momentarily of Fen'Harel.

_The Dread Wolf._

She laughed the idea away. Surely not.

She looked down at her hand. The spot where the anchor was began to throb. She cast it to release some of its pent up energy. She did this from time to time. When the foreign magic began to overwhelm her with its intensity, she would focus on the light; letting it grow brighter and then watch it fade back into nothingness. Just a hand. It was like her whole life. An aching truth lying just below the surface. It was Visible for a fleeting a second, giving her a momentary understanding of the vastness of the world. When she began to fathom something she wasn't built for, it faded away leaving her looking at the waking world. Looking at something mundane. Just a hand. The feeling always left her with loss and frustration.

From outside the tent " “With...thought, I bid you...”

What was he going on about?

She closed her eyes, watching the glow dance behind her lids. Thinking back on the wolf, she remembered the colors and the beautiful white light that had enveloped her. She began to feel herself becoming overwhelmed again and had no desire to cry all night like a useless child. She needed to channel these feelings and the anchor wasn't doing its usual job. It was throbbing and tingling. The magic reaching down into her body, invading her spirit. She began to feel herself become heated so she shrugged out of her tunic and small clothes.

_So much better._

She leaned back and clenched her thighs together, trying to ignore the feeling building between them. She held the anchor in front of her face, watching the swirling at the center of her palm. She thought she heard some movement from outside the tent, probably Solas moving in his sleep. Years of practice had taught him how to enter the fade quickly. Once he had fallen asleep on the storm coast with the ground shaking stomps of a giant not far off. Once he was out, he slept like the dead. She knew the only way to get to sleep was to quell the dull ache at her core. She would not need to be overly quiet. She sat up on her knees and reached between her legs, feeling the slickness of her womanhood. She inserted two fingers and almost let out a loud gasp. She managed to stifle it by covering her mouth, slightly biting and sucking on her middle finger. The loud gasp turned into a quiet sigh and she began a slow pace, driving her fingers in and out and circling her clitoris with her thumb. She heard some more movement and what sounded like a quiet groan. At least it was better than when he _barked_ in his sleep. She was a bit embarrassed that she enjoyed the sound and it momentarily hitched her breath.

She forcibly drove out the image of Solas moaning in his sleep, closed her eyes and let the pleasure take hold of her body.

_Set my spirit free..._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 "Ugh. My head. Why do I do this to myself?"

 Dorian shot up from his bed roll, clothing and hair in a state of hilarious disarray. It was quite uncharacteristic for Dorian and he was thankful to be hidden from sight by the tent. His shoes were still on his feet, but his robes had been hiked up to expose two tan thighs. He glanced over at the sleeping dwarf next to him and chuckled. He picked up the circular hand mirror and assessed the situation. 

"Not so bad, old boy."

After making himself presentable he stepped out from his tent, totally collected without a trace of illness to him. 

 Solas was sitting next to the fire, preparing some kind of mushy gray breakfast slop for the group.

 "Good morning, Dorian. I hope you are feeling well today after last nights misadventures."

 Dorian didn't' take the bait. 

 "And I you. You were engaging in some _lingering_ looks toward the Inquisitors tent last night. And that scandalously long bath."

  _If you only knew, Dorian._

"The inquisitor has been under a great deal of stress lately. It is in all of Thedas' best interest to see that she doesn't shoulder these burdens alone."

 Dorian strolled over and grabbed a ceramic bowl from Solas, sitting down across from him. He sniffed if ruefully before shooting a look at Solas. 

 "Right, darling. Keep telling yourself that. A real "Man of the People" you are."

Solas didn't even endeavor do hide his mirth. He all but snorted with glee. It was a strange sight for Dorian and he wasn't exactly sure what had been so funny. All he could muster was a slight smirk. He found Solas to be very curious. Knowledgeable and wise, but also slightly cocky. He played it very close to the chest and Dorian respected him for it.  He didn't have a lot of time to think on it when Rowan stepped out of her tent fully cleaned and clothed.

 "Good morning, gentlemen."

 She confidently strolled over to Solas and grabbed a bowl, sitting down next to him. He did his best to appear oblivious and unaffected. Whatever face he was presenting at breakfast was a far cry from the storm raging inside of him.  Rowan lifted the bowl to smell it and looked to Dorian in doubt. 

Dorian shrugged, "Don't look at me."

"Good morning, Lathallan. I trust you slept well?" Solas was aggravated with his companions response to breakfast. Cooking had never been his forte. 

"I did not, Solas. But thank you for inquiring after me. I had a very...interesting dream last night that I was unable to shake from my head."

Once again, so honest and open. No fear of reproach or judgement.

"Would you like to discuss it with me _da'len_?"

She didn't know why, but she enjoyed when he called her da'len. It reminded her of home. She felt safe with him. She smiled at him warmly and he felt his heart break at her kind eyes. He tried to hold her gaze for as long as possible but she always overwhelmed him. He was always the first to look away. He did, turning his gaze coolly back to his slop. In all his years, he never balked at a person's countenance. He never expected a Dalish girl would unravel him so thoroughly. She didn't even realize it, too. Like a kitten with a ball of yarn. She noticed his aloofness and her face fell.

_You want to be friends, teacher/student, clansman. I want none of these things from you, hahren; and all of them. I want everything. Until there is nothing left._

 "Yes, perhaps later. We need to begin making our journey back to Skyhold. Josephine sent a raven for us early this morning. We need to get fitted for Halamshiral. Sera's gown is just about done."

 With that, she dumped the rest of the mush into the pot over the fire and made her way to Varric's tent to rouse him for the day.

They walked east through Hafter's Woods, looking for a the path that would lead them through Redcliffe. Rowan and Dorian in the front, holding their mounts by their reins, and Solas listening to Varric's tales of Hawke and Kirkwall. After a mile or so at a leisurely pace, they came across a large splatter of blood littering the woodland floor. Dorian readied his staff as Penny began to trot nervously in place. She could always pick up on the groups tension and responded accordingly. Rowan patted her side and shushed her. 

 "Perhaps this was a bear attack?" Solas stepped forward next to Rowan and threw up a ward.

 Rowan squatted down in front of the bloody pile and ran her fingers through the mess. 

 "No carcass...Bits of fur, bones? Also, there are no tracks. I don't think this was a bear's snack." Her eyes drifted up and she saw the faint splattering of blood in the form of a trail. Her green eyes went big with curiosity and she looked back at her other companions.

 "Shall we?"

 Varric pulled Bianca from the holster on his back and smiled at her mischievously.

 "You're going to get us killed, Tack. But damned if I am not curious."

 Solas only glared at the two gentleman, so eager and ready to find the source of the carnage at their feet.

  _Mortals. So often they can only see what's in front of them._

 They moved along the wooded trail, picking up splatters of blood here and there. It wasn't long until they came across a one man camp. It was a triangle canvas tent with a makeshift fire pit, embers still smoldering. Rowan knew this type of camp well. It's purpose was to be portable and as useful as possible. The Dalish hunters in clan Lavellan used camps like this frequently on their extended hunts. She felt that lonely tug in her gut at the sight. _Home._ What did that word even mean anymore? Since joining the Inquisition, and especially since moving to Skyhold, she had felt that home was wherever she rested her head. As a child in clan Lavellan, she had to learn that permanence was not a part of her story. She let herself get too attached to the familiarity of Haven. She wouldn't make that mistake again. If by some chance of fate Skyhold fell, she wouldn't pity the loss. She would bleed for the lives lost. But she was her own home. This camp was so eerily familiar to her. She couldn't place it.

 Next to the fire was a wooden rack made of tree branches. its corners were tied together with twine. Hanging from its center was the hide of a brown bear.

"well there's our ferocious bear." Dorian quipped.

 "Do we care to know who this hunter is?" Solas responded, slightly exasperated. 

"I would say so. It is doubtful this hunter is a refugee. Perhaps their skill could benefit the Inquisition. Aren't we to always be keeping an eye out for ways to _expand our influence?"_ Rowan walked over to the camp and glanced down at a book sitting next to the bedroll.

 "It's a book on Fereldan plant life, specifically plants used for poisons."

"Poision? Let me see that." Varric joined her and she absentmindedly handed the book off to Varric.

She vaguely saw the shape moving in her peripherals from an incline set inside a square formation of ruins with pillars. They had come across this area before. There was an interesting bit of lore that had accompanied the landmark. The group had ever since then referred to the area as " Tyrdda Flying to Her Lover". 

She glanced up quickly at the sound of a knife cutting flesh. There, in the center of the ruin, was a hunched over elf. He was cutting the hide from the dead body of a mabari, a bow strapped to his back.

Dorian called out first, "Hello! Yes, Hunter?"

He looked up and almost instantly caught sight of Rowan, his face spreading into a devilish smile. He rose to his feet to better let the group take in the full sight of him. He was tall for an elf. Not quite as tall as Solas, but just a broad shouldered. He wore no shirt, and the vallaslin in black of Andruil graced his face and chest. He wore leather breeches that sat dangerously low on his hips. He was a deep bronze, with dark brown hair braided at his back and chocolate eyes. He began to make his way to the party, blood dripping from his hands.

 Dorian, who was standing next to Rowan readied his staff, but muttered something about it being a shame to kill such a strapping man. 

As the man got closer, Rowan could make out his features a bit clearer. it wasn't long until that sinking-dawning realization hit her. She grabbed a hold of Dorian's shoulder, partly to stop him from firing, but also to steady the weakness she was feeling in her knees.

 "Hold your fire!" She called to the group

 The man raised his hands in sheepish innocence and approached them. He walked right up to Rowan, towering over her and hands still in the air. She swallowed hard not knowing what to say to him.

 Solas watched them intently. He had the same sinking realization that Rowan had, although he could not allow the group to see. He felt his skin vibrating and he was worried that he might have an outburst if he didn't calm himself. Varric seemed to notice Solas' discomfort because he was looking at him with pointed concern. Before anyone had a chance to speak, the tall elf addressed Rowan. The rest of the group was huddled at Rowan's back, waiting for her order.

 "Good morning, _da'len"_ He bowed low and dramatically. One hand covering his chest and the other outstretched with long elegant pointed fingers.

 It elicited an involuntary snort from Rowan. She covered her mouth and looked away from the man, embarrassed. He looked up at her from his low bow, still wearing that sickeningly sweet smile,

"It does my spirit well to see another of the people. And such a beautiful young Dalish, at that."

Solas could feel his mana bubbling desperately inside of him. He would need to maintain his air of cold detachment. He clamped his hands behind his back and swallowed hard. His face turned hard and impassive. 

  _This is going to be bad._

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song
> 
> My Body is a Cage-Arcade Fire
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhhZdune_5Q
> 
> This is what I imagine what Rowan was feeling in her tent. beautiful and sad.


End file.
